


Counting Snowflakes

by Jeldenil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to other sites, M/M, Sirius Black's Flying Motorbike, Snow, trousers get soiled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeldenil/pseuds/Jeldenil
Summary: “Just because you’re the Saviour, doesn’t mean you get to soil innocent bystanders.”Harry grinned.“Oh, you call that soiling?”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Counting Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bererjs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bererjs/gifts).

> Many thanks to my lovely beta [Keyflight790](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/pseuds/keyflight790) who's always there for me <3 Love you, darling!
> 
> \---  
I have not given permission for this fic to be present on any App. I make no money out of this. Do not use applications to read this. Every fic on Ao3 can be downloaded to be read offline.  


Thick flakes covered the streets of London. It was getting close to Christmas, and it seemed that the weather had decided it was going to be stereotypical this year. People were hurrying through the snow, leaving slurry in their wake. Some took their time to revel in the wintery atmosphere, but most just wanted to get to their destination and get warm. 

Not Harry. He was enjoying an, admittedly risky, ride on Sirius’ motorbike, slipping and sliding dangerously through the sludgy streets. Where he went, people were staring and muttering their disgust with such a reckless youth. Someone shouted “Oy, got a death wish?” but Harry just laughed at them. Nah, he was past that kind of thing. Couldn’t he just enjoy the thrill of the ride, the roar of the engine between his thighs, the powerful feeling it gave him? 

It’d been a long time since he’d felt in control of anything, and he’d craved it. The motor provided just that; full control, with the aid of a little magic. It listened to his slightest motion, his softest whisper, like his Firebolt used to do during a Quidditch game. 

Nowadays, Harry didn’t have anyone to play with. Ron was too busy in the shop with George, Ginny was too busy being a professional Quidditch captain, and Dean was too busy building his life with Seamus. But at least he still had the bike. 

He steadily made his way out of the city centre, towards the suburbs. That was another advantage of the bike - he didn’t get stuck in traffic. There was a small wizarding street near a park, and Harry wondered whether he would run into someone familiar. He was hoping for Luna, who ran a pet store with unpredictable opening hours - but what he got was someone quite unexpected indeed. 

“Watch where you’re going with that - gross! Look at my trousers! They’re ruined! You uncivilised, irresponsible tool!” 

Harry let the motorbike slip and turned, putting a foot down on the street for balance. He was grateful for his sturdy boots, because the street was slippery and treacherous. There, on the sidewalk and slightly spattered with greyish slurry, stood nobody other than Draco sodding Malfoy.

The man was shivering in a too-thin navy coat, presumably picked for style, and his whiteblond hair was mostly hidden under a large woolen hat. His grey eyes pierced Harry’s in a defiant challenge.

“Just because you’re the Saviour, doesn’t mean you get to soil innocent bystanders.” 

Harry grinned. 

“Oh, you call that soiling?” 

Malfoy flushed. 

A rare, primitive need took Harry by surprise. Malfoy looked absolutely edible, what with his indignant expression, his hands tugged deep into the pockets of his ineffective coat, and his nose and cheeks bright pink. 

“What about I buy you a coffee and show you what a proper soiling is in the bathroom?” 

He usually wasn’t that bold, but this situation called for it. 

“You’re crass, Potter.” 

“I don’t hear you complaining.” 

“You don’t? That was me complaining just now, Potter.” 

Harry grinned, swinging his leg to dismount the bike. With a flick of his wand, it parked and locked itself on the sidewalk. When Harry took off his helmet, he could see Malfoy swallow.

“Like what you see?” 

“That- That’s neither here nor there, Potter.” 

“Oh, but I think it is.” 

He walked over to Malfoy, who was now blushing furiously, but not backing down. 

“What do you think you’re-” 

Harry grabbed Malfoy by the hips and drew him close, smothering his protests in an ice-cold kiss. Malfoy stiffened, and for a second Harry considered letting him go and offering his apologies. But then, Malfoy melted into the kiss, releasing a soft whimper and taking hold of Harry’s arms. 

When they broke apart, Malfoy was panting, his mouth slightly open and his eyes dazed. He was the most beautiful sight in the snowy landscape, and that was saying something.

“What about that coffee?” Harry asked, his voice a little rougher than he’d intended. 

“You… you have snow in your hair,” Malfoy stammered, making Harry blink. 

“Er… is that a yes?” 

“It is. I just...I went out to count them. The snowflakes. I- You made me lose count.” 

Harry laughed at that. “Count snowflakes? What on earth? You’re crazy, Malfoy. I’m glad I distracted you.”

“I’m not crazy, I’m doing science. With magic.” Malfoy was shivering again, rubbing his arms to keep warm.

“Well, you know what? You can tell me all about it inside over coffee.”


End file.
